Ten days passed, and Constance was enjoying her new-found freedom. She went to see Ethel nearly every day, and though she despised Albie for his lies, it seemed that his visit might have helped Ethel, as there were positive signs of recovery.
Constance was glad that Dora was being nicer too, though the strain between them was still there since she knew Constance had been to see Ethel.
Today, Constance was a bit nervous as Jill was cutting her hair, but she put herself in her friend’s hands, gulping at the amount of hair falling to the floor. ‘Who is Vidal Sassoon?’ she asked.
‘He’s an amazing hairdresser who does fantastic geometrical cuts. Lots of famous people go to his salon. Right, all done and now I’m going to put some eye make-up on you before you see yourself. I think you’re in for a pleasant surprise.’
Constance submitted, blinking as Jill applied what she said was eye shadow, liner and mascara. At last it was finished and Jill handed her a mirror. She gasped, unable to believe what she saw. Her hair was short and shiny, framing her face, making her eyes with the make-up look enormous. ‘Oh, my goodness,’ she gasped.
‘You look fabulous.’
‘I know I’ll never be pretty, but I look sort of … well … striking.’
‘Yes, you certainly do.’
‘Thank you, Jill. Thank you so much.’
‘You’re welcome, love. If you want to keep it up, I’ll write a list of the make-up you need to buy. That’s if you can afford it.’
‘I can now, so yes, please,’ Constance said and impulsively rose to her feet to hug her friend. Jill winced and she frowned. ‘What’s the matter? You seem in pain.’
‘It’s nothing.’
Constance pushed up Jill’s sleeve to see that her arm was covered in bruises.
‘Don’t,’ Jill said, pulling her sleeve down again.
‘How did that happen?’
‘I err … erm, fell over.’
‘Oh, dear, it must have been a bad fall. That arm looks like it’s been used as a punchbag.’
Tears suddenly filled Jill’s eyes and she said, ‘That’s because it has been, and the other one is just as bad.’
‘Oh, Jill. Don’t tell me that Denis hits you.’
‘Yeah, he does, but only when he’s had a skinful. When he’s sober, he’s a diamond, but drink turns him nasty.’
‘I can’t believe it. You always seem so happy.’
‘That’s because I’ve become good at putting on a front.’
‘You could leave him.’
‘Huh, and go where? Like you, with no money of my own I’m trapped, but even if I could, I wouldn’t leave. Like I said, when he’s sober Denis is a diamond, he loves me and he’s great in bed.’
Constance felt herself flush, but couldn’t resist asking, ‘Do … do you like … sex?’
‘Yes, of course I do. It’s great. Why? Don’t you?’
‘I … I’ve only been with Albie once, when the baby was conceived. He hasn’t touched me since.’
‘Blimey, that’s a bit odd.’
‘He said it’s because I’m pregnant.’
‘I have heard that it can be a bit of turn-off for some men.’
Constance couldn’t bring herself to tell Jill it suited her that Albie left her alone. She had no feelings for him and didn’t want him to touch her.
‘Connie, I don’t know what came over me just now. I’ve never told anyone about Denis hitting me. I don’t want the gossips to have a field day, so will you keep it to yourself?’
‘Of course I will.’
‘Yeah, I had a feeling I can trust you.’
‘I feel the same about you. It’s lovely having you as a friend.’
‘Likewise,’ Jill said, handing her the list of make-up. ‘You could try Rimmel. It’s cheap, but OK.’
‘Thanks again, Jill. I’d better be off then. I want to visit Ethel this afternoon and need to do a bit of housework before I leave.’
They said their goodbyes and Constance walked home, unaware that her new look was causing a few raised eyebrows.
‘Mary, how’s Ethel?’ Helen asked when she went into the café.
‘She’s a lot better, thanks,’ Mary told her. She liked Helen, but they hadn’t managed to strike up a real friendship outside work as Helen was now courting and saw her boyfriend nearly every evening.
‘Hello there,’ Percy said. ‘I’ve just heard you telling Helen that Ethel is a lot better.’
‘Yes, and they’re talking about letting her come home soon. It … it’s what I’ve come to see you about. You’ve been so good letting me have so much time off, and I want to come back to work, but when Ethel comes home I don’t think I can leave her on her own all day, not for a while yet.’
‘How about working part-time? You could do, say, seven-thirty till ten-thirty to cover the morning rush. Molly ain’t keen on it, but she’d be happy to cover the rest of your hours until you can come back full-time.’
‘Percy, thank you. That would be perfect.’
‘Right, as soon as Ethel is home let me know and we’ll put your new shift in place.’
He was such a kind man and Mary felt like hugging him. ‘Thanks again, Percy. That’s a weight off my mind. I’d best be off.’
‘Hold on, if you ain’t in a rush, how about joining me for a cup of tea and a sarnie?’
‘Yeah, that’d be nice. I’ve missed your bacon butties.’
‘Is that all you’ve missed about me?’ Percy asked, a glint in his eyes.
Mary didn’t know how to respond. Surely Percy wasn’t interested in her in that way? He was twice her age, old enough to be her father, but there was no mistaking the look he’d given her.
‘It’s all right, I can see I’ve put you on the spot. I’ll go and make our sandwiches,’ Percy said, hurrying off.
Still floundering, Mary flopped onto a seat. She smiled softly as she wondered what Ethel would have to say about this turn of events – and she couldn’t wait to tell her.
Constance had been to see Ethel, and was thrilled to be told she would be allowed home in a few days. Mary was visiting too, and both she and Ethel had admired her new look.
‘You look lovely,’ Ethel said.
Unused to compliments, Constance flushed. ‘I don’t know about that, but I think I look better.’
‘More than better. Attractive,’ Ethel gushed.
‘Yeah, you do,’ Mary enthused, but then said, ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’
‘Spit it out then,’ Ethel urged.
‘I think Percy likes me.’
‘Well, he’s let you have a lot of time off, and he’s holding your job for you, so yes, he must think you’re worth hanging on to. You’ve turned into a good waitress.’
‘No, I don’t mean in that way. I mean he likes me, as in fancies me.’
‘What? Blimey, that’s a turn-up for the books.’
‘Yeah, I know. But he’s twice my age.’
‘So what? He’s got that house that he lets out, the café, and the flat above. He must be worth a good few bob.’
‘Ethel, I’m not a gold-digger.’
‘I didn’t say you were, but it’s just as easy to fall for a rich man as a poor one.’
‘What do you think, Constance? Do you think the age difference is too much?’ Mary asked.
‘No, not really. I think the most important thing is that he makes you happy.’
‘He does. I’ve never met anyone kinder,’ Mary answered with a smile.
‘There you go then. Some men have a knack of putting a smile on your face. My Albie always has that effect on me. I’m looking forward to seeing him when he comes home,’ Ethel said. ‘Have you heard from him?’
‘Err … no,’ Constance replied, despising Albie for putting her in this position. She knew he didn’t intend to see his gran again, but fearful that it would cause her a setback she refrained from telling her, instead forced to go along with his lie.
Albie pulled up outside the Burton Blake house in Clapham, and as he climbed out of the car he once again admired the architecture. It was a grand-looking house, and one he would inherit through his marriage to Connie. He just hoped that old Burton Blake would kick the bucket sooner rather than later. He hated being cooped up in his mother’s small terrace, and with just one living room there was nowhere to escape for a bit of peace. The only choice was to sit with his mother and Connie, listening to his mother’s inane chatter and the incessant click of her knitting needles. Was it any wonder he went out as often as he could, finding enjoyment in satiating his appetites elsewhere? Soho continued to beckon him and he was drawn there like a magnet, unable to resist the delights on offer.
‘Yes, what do you want?’ a slim, good-looking woman of around forty asked, her apron askew and hair escaping from a bun.
‘I’d like to see Mr Burton Blake.’
‘Who shall I say is calling?’
‘Albert Jones, his son-in-law.’
‘Oh, right, you’d better come in then,’ she said, leading him to the drawing room. ‘I’ll tell him you’re here.’
Albie looked around the room, finding it exactly as he remembered it. The fine art on the walls, the antique furniture and the bronze figurines. This wasn’t the only room, there was the breakfast room, library, study and many more in this huge house, all beautifully furnished too. One day it would all be his, and he’d be living the life of the gentry. He sat on a sofa, and crossed one leg over the other, looking nonchalant as Burton Blake walked into the room.
‘What do you want?’ he asked without preamble.
‘I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you for more money.’
‘You are not getting another penny out of me. From what I can see you are hardly penniless. I saw your car outside and that suit you’re wearing is tailored.’
‘Your daughter is ill, with legs so swollen she can barely walk. I had to buy a car to take her to and from the hospital for treatment.’
‘That may be so, but have you got a job yet?’
‘No, I’m afraid not. I have to remain at home to look after Constance, so if you won’t help us out she will have to come here. That will free me up to find work.’
‘I’m not taking her in. She’s your responsibility now.’
‘I’m aware of that, but I’m unable to properly take care of her. She needs nourishing food which I can’t provide, and I won’t be able to unless I find work.’
‘You can’t have gone through two thousand pounds already.’
‘I have, and as I said, your daughter is ill and needs proper care. If you won’t offer assistance and anything happens to Constance, I’ll let it be known that you refused to offer the help that could have saved her.’
‘You ruddy scoundrel. How dare you blackmail me?’
‘Oh, I dare. For the sake of your daughter and our unborn child, I dare.’
With his lips set in a thin line Burton Blake stalked from the room, saying, ‘Wait there.’
Albie smiled. It had been easy to make the old fool fall for his lies. He rubbed his palms together gleefully, looking forward to receiving another fat cheque.
‘Here, take this,’ Burton Blake snapped as he walked back into the room, ‘but I’m warning you, it’s the last penny you will receive from me.’
Albie looked at the cheque and scowled. ‘Five hundred quid.’
‘By my calculations, Constance must be nearly eight months pregnant. That money is more than enough to cover any loss of wages you’d incur by remaining at home until she gives birth. After that, there will be nothing to prevent you from finding work. Now get out of my house, and don’t come back.’
Albie wasn’t happy, but knew he wasn’t going to get any more out of the man. At least not for now. He rose to his feet, and touched his hand to his forelock, saluting sarcastically as he said, ‘Yes, sir, I’ll be leaving you, sir.’
Albie drove off, still not happy with the cheque, but at least it would cater for his indulgences for a while. He’d fallen for another brunette in Soho who had expensive taste in perfume, but for what he got in return, buying it was worth every penny.